remembering the dog that basically grew up with me and like damn. when he first came to us, my parents found his owners, but he just kept coming back so they let my parents take him. we didn't know his breed for sure but he looked like a 'red' dachshund. few years later my dad got a chihuahua, that unfortunely became agressive (and my family's the only one to blame). when we would go out, they never made him wear a leash, he would just walk next to us. once the chihuahua also got out of our yard, not sure if they let him or it was an accident, but he and our neighbor's dog started attacking each other. the dachshund tried to protect our other dog and almost died after getting mauled. another time a dog from my mom's job, which is next to our house also escaped and attacked him. and he almost died again. not sure which one of these was first though. the dog in my mom's work was fucking huge, from my memory being closer to a wolf than any dog breed. i was scared of getting out of my house alone because i was scared he'd kill me. once he escaped again, and he did run to us, but he didn't attack anyone. but shit i don't get how keeping animals in diy cages outside was normalized, and still is in small villages. my parents never thought of going for walks with that dog, even after he got attacked twice. usually they'd just open the door for him and let him roam freely around the whole village. but he was lovely, it feels like he cared about other pets we had. he got to live until he was around 13. i remember that my dad and grandma got mad because my sister was crying when he died. maybe that's why now i'm sure i won't cry at all when they die. damn, this was supposed to be about how sweet our dog was but again my family had to ruin his fucking life too. but he was the cutest ever, i'll never forget him